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Woodrats’ immunity to snake venom

April 17, 2025

Woodrats’ immunity to snake venom

April 17, 2025
Above: Rattlesnake. Credit:  Pexels, Uriel Venegas

Researchers looking at effects of the desert rodent's toxic diet discover cool temperatures reduce the critter's ability to survive rattlesnake bites. Discovering pharmacologically potent molecules can lead to human medicines.

Adapted from a press release produced by the University of Michigan.

The power of a rattlesnake’s venom to incapacitate its prey may depend on more than just its potency or even the prey animal’s tolerance for the poison. According to a new study published Tuesday in Biology Letters, it also depends a bit on the weather.

Matt Holding. Credit University of Michigan.

“Even across different populations of the same snake species, eating the same prey, we see evolutionary differences in their venoms,” said postdoctoral researcher Matthew Holding, an evolutionary biologist in the University of Michigan Life Sciences Institute and lead author of the study. “With this study, we really wanted to dig into what drives these differences in the natural coevolutionary arms races between the snakes and their prey.”

 With colleagues from the University of Nevada, Reno and the University of Utah, Holding analyzed how blood serum samples from wild woodrats responded to rattlesnake venom, a substance that contains hemotoxins that break down blood cells and neurotoxins that cause respiratory paralysis.

Desert woodrats (Neotoma lepida), also known as pack rats, are an herbivorous rodent native to arid regions of the U.S. Southwest. They are renowned for their immunity to toxins that occur naturally in desert environments, including resin from creosote bushes, their primary food source.

As the natural prey of rattlesnakes, woodrats have also evolved resistance to snake venom: they can survive 500 to 1,000 times the amount that would kill a standard lab mouse. This resistance comes from proteins circulating in the rats’ blood that can neutralize the venom.

For this study, the researchers used serum samples from rats that the Utah coauthors Patrice Kurnath Connors and Denise Dearing collected in 2014 in southwest Utah for a different study exploring this species’ resistance to toxins in creosote.

Biologists Denise Dearing, left, and Patrice Kurnath Connors. Credit: University of Utah.

That research was part of Connors’ doctoral dissertation. She is now an associate professor of biology at Colorado Mesa University.

Before the blood serum samples were drawn, the woodrats had been acclimated to captive environments that were either warm (85°F) or cool (70°F). The researchers found that samples from the warm group were better at inhibiting the venom’s toxicity, compared with samples from the cold group.

“We figured the rattlesnake resistance would be the same whether they were in the cool or the warm, and that when we fed them creosote in either temperature, the rattlesnake resistance would drop,” said Dearing, a distinguished professor of biology at the University of Utah and senior author on the study. “We weren’t really thinking about the effect of temperature on rattlesnake resistance, so we were pretty surprised by the results that there was such a huge effect that in the cooler environments, the rattlesnake venom resistance was really low. And in the warmer environments, it was really high.”

 

Read the full article by Brian Maffly in @The U.

For a while, crocodile

April 17, 2025

For a while, crocodile

April 17, 2024
Above:  Some 215 million years ago in what is now northwestern Argentina, the terrestrial crocodylomorph Hemiprotosuchus leali prepares to devour the early mammal relative Chaliminia musteloides. Credit: Jorge Gonzalez

The ancestors of today’s crocodylians survived two mass extinction events. A new study uncovered a secret to their longevity, which could help conservationists better protect our planet’s most vulnerable species.

Keegan Melstrom, assistant professor, University of Central Oklahoma with three crocodylomorphs. Photo credit: University of Central Oklahoma

Most people think of crocodylians as living fossils— stubbornly unchanged, prehistoric relics that have ruled the world’s swampiest corners for millions of years. But their evolutionary history tells a different story, according to new research led by the University of Central Oklahoma (UCO) and the University of Utah.

Crocodylians are surviving members of a 230-million-year lineage called crocodylomorphs, a group that includes living crocodylians (i.e. crocodiles, alligators and gharials) and their many extinct relatives. Crocodylian ancestors persisted through two mass extinction events, a feat requiring evolutionary agility to adapt to a rapidly changed world. The study’s authors discovered that one secret to crocodylian longevity is their remarkably flexible lifestyles, both in what they eat and the habitat in which they get it.

“Lots of groups closely related to crocodylians were more diverse, more abundant, and exhibited different ecologies, yet they all disappeared except these few generalist crocodylians alive today,” said Keegan Melstrom, lead author and assistant professor at UCO, who began the research as a doctoral student at the U. “Extinction and survivorship are two sides of the same coin. Through all mass extinctions, some groups manage to persist and diversify. What can we learn by studying the deeper evolutionary patterns imparted by these events?”

Earth has experienced five mass extinctions in its history. Experts argue that we’re living through a sixth, driven by habitat destruction, invasive species and changing climates. Identifying traits that boost survivorship during planetary upheaval may help scientists and conservationists better protect vulnerable species today.

Historically, the field has regarded mammals as the poster children for understanding mass extinction survival, lauding their generalist diet and ability to thrive in different ecological niches. Despite their resilience, research has largely ignored the crocodylomorph clade. The paper, published on April 16 in the journal Palaeontology, is the first to reconstruct the dietary ecology of crocodylomorphs to identify characteristics that helped some groups persist and thrive through two mass extinctions—the end-Triassic, about 201.4 million years ago (Ma), and the end-Cretaceous, about 66 Ma.

“There’s a danger of trying to draw conclusions from millions of years ago and directly apply it to conservation. We have to be cautious,” said co-author Randy Irmis, curator of paleontology at the Natural History Museum of Utah and professor in the U’s Department of Geology & Geophysics. “If people study mammals and reptiles and find the same patterns with respect to extinction survival, then we might predict that species with a generalist diet may do better. That information helps us make predictions, but it’s unlikely we’ll ever be able to pick out which individual species will survive.”

A hidden past of alternative lifestyles

Randy Irmis faces off with a fossil Borealosuchus skull from the Natural History Museum of Utah’s collections. This crocodylian lived approximately 48 million years ago in the American West. Photo credit: Jack Rodgers/NHMU

Living crocodylians are famous for being semi-aquatic generalists that thrive in environments like lakes, rivers or marshes, waiting to ambush unsuspecting prey. Picky eaters, they are not. Young ones will snack on anything from tadpoles, insects or crustaceans before graduating to bigger fare, such as fish, baby deer, or even fellow crocs. Yet the uniform lifestyle of today’s crocodylians masks a massive diversity of dietary ecologies in which past crocodylomorphs thrived.

During the Late Triassic Period (237–201.4 Ma) Pseudosuchia, a broader evolutionary group that includes early crocodylomorphs and many other extinct lineages, ruled the land. The earliest crocodylomorphs were small-to-medium-sized creatures that were rare in their ecosystems, and were carnivores that mostly ate small animals. In contrast, other pseudosuchian groups dominated on land, occupied a wide range of ecological roles and exhibited a dizzying diversity of body shapes and sizes.

Despite their dominance, once the end-Triassic extinction hit, no non-crocodylomorph pseudosuchians survived. Whereas hyper-carnivore crocodylomorphs appeared to also die off, the terrestrial generalists made it through. The authors hypothesize that this ability to eat almost anything allowed them to survive, while so many other groups went extinct.

 

Read the full story by Lisa Potter in @The U.

An immortalized smile at chemistry

April 16, 2025

An Immortalized Smile at Chemistry

April 15, 2025
Above: President Henry B. Eyring (seated in wheelchair), son of U chemist Henry Eyring, responds to the unveiling of a bronze statue of his father in the lobby of the University of Utah's chemistry building. The statue was a gift from a former student of Eyring's, Khosrow B. Semnani, far left. All photos by Kirstin Roper Photography.

In 1946 when celebrated chemist Henry Eyring told his Princeton University colleagues that he had taken a position at the University of Utah he was told “but Henry, there’s no culture out there.” He responded, “culture is where I hang my hat.”


A lifelong ethic

Distinguished Professor of Chemistry Valeria Molinero admires the detail of the molecule model held in the statue's left hand.

It was an anecdote ably recounted by the scientist’s son, President Henry B. Eyring, on the occasion of the installment of a new statue to honor Eyring senior in the chemistry building at the U on April 12. The chemist’s response was not only to his friends embedded at the post-WWII Ivy League institution that had attracted (or would soon attract) a whole host of famous scientists that included Albert Einstein, J. Robert Oppenheimer, John von Neumann and Eugene Wigner; it was confirmation of Eyring’s own character of intellectual acumen and his lifelong ethic of seamlessly integrating both academics and faith.

Surrounded by Henry Eyring’s proliferating descendants, the event with 120+ onlookers crowded into the lobby-in-the round of the chemistry building, named after Eyring, for the unveiling. Interim chair of the Department of Chemistry Peter Armentrout talked about Eyring’s contributions to theoretical chemistry that have fundamentally shaped our understanding of chemical kinetics. "I know that for a fact,” he said, “because I do chemical kinetics, and I use some of his principles all the time.” Eyring developed the absolute rate theory, known as the Eyring equation, and he is known for his seminal research on the theory of liquids, optical rotation, rate processes in biology and medicine, aging and cancer, and anesthesiology. He was presented with the National Medal of Science in 1966 by Lyndon B. Johnson and received the Wolf Prize in Chemistry in 1980.

 

Inaugural dean

U President Randall Taylor also reminded the gathering that Eyring arrived at the U as the inaugural dean of the graduate school which was the first university to receive a grant from the National Institutes of Health. “The United States was in the process of trying to define how it would do research in the Cold War era,” Randall recounted, invoking the inflection points in the U’s history. “In fact, today, even the announcements that have been made all week about national science funding … that is questioning the fundamental agreement that was made when Henry Eyring arrived at the University of Utah.”

From the moment of his arrival in Utah, Eyring’s passion for discovery and education became evident in parallel play with his skill at bridging the findings of science with profound philosophical thought. A beneficiary of this legacy during the 60s was Khosrow Semnani who arrived in Utah in 1968 and was a graduate student for a time in Eyring’s lab. Next to two family members, Semnani said, Eyring was the third “guiding light” in his life. It was the good professor's letter of recommendation that helped the new arrival from Iran land his first job at Kennecott Copper Mine. To “pay it forward," Semnani, now a generous philanthropist, funded the design, casting and installation of the statue — sculpted by Mark Degraffenried and cast under the direction of Brett Wright at the Metal Arts Foundry in Lehi.

Also on hand for remarks was Hamid Ghandehari professor and chair of the Department of Molecular Pharmaceutics at the U and brother to Hossein Ghandehari who was Eyring’s Ph.D. student and later research associate in the late 60s/early 70s. Hossein’s remembrances were read by his brother who regaled the appreciative crowd with memories of not only Eyring’s academic mentorship but his athleticism. “I am sure some of you have heard of him jumping up on his desk from the floor,” read Hamid, “when he was much younger than at the time I met him.” Eyring famously held an annual foot race with his students and other in the office. “He worked very hard to beat us in the race and we did take the difference in age into account . . . but not by much."

Science and faith

Taylor Randall, sculptor Mark Degraffenried, and Peter Armetrout.

A third-generation member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, Eyring never saw any conflict between his scientific studies and his Mormon faith. "Is there any conflict between science and religion?,” he was quoted as saying in a 1983 biography. “There is no conflict in the mind of God, but often there is conflict in the minds of men." Son President Eyring, an academic in his own right and now a senior member of the church’s Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, recalled his father giving a talk as president of the American Chemical Society, “and he said, in the middle of ... explaining one of these theories. … ‘Oh, I heard God saying… Henry, you got it wrong again.’ He really saw deity as a person.”

It was his father’s firm belief that he was a child of God, “and that God was the great creator, and really understood chemistry, really understood everything” that in turn benefited his students and colleagues, all of whom, Henry Eyring felt, were loved by not only a higher power, but a deified father figure. Continued President Eyring: “I sometimes said, Dad, why don't you pray and ask God to tell you something. And he said, ‘It wouldn't help. I wouldn't understand it.’”

Many individuals, not only his colleagues at the U, believed that Henry Eyring should have been awarded the Nobel prize for his research and stellar contributions, connecting the fields of chemistry and physics through atomic theory, quantum theory, and statistical mechanics. (Eyring was in fact nominated for the honor more than once.) Apparently, so also thought the president of the Swedish Academy which grants the prize and who was himself a chemist and a friend of Eyring’s. Once while the academy president and, coincidentally, the King of Sweden, were talking, Eyring — known to be a jokester — was sitting on a nearby sofa when the academy president asked him, “Are you offended that we never gave you the prize?” Reportedly, Eyring said, “Oh, no, I gave it to myself years ago.”

At the beginning of his remarks at the unveiling, the younger Eyring, at 92 and seated in a wheelchair, said he was glad he had his back to the effigy of his father, the left hand of the statue cast in bronze and fingering, almost lovingly, the model of a molecule. “When I look at this,” the younger Eyring said, gesturing over his shoulder, ”I cry. I'm glad I can't see it, because that smile is the smile he always had when he taught about chemistry, and he was trying to lift people. That's what he did.”

You can read more about the legacy of Henry Eyring here. 

By David Pace

Other dignitaries attending the ceremony included former Utah Gov. Gary Herbert, Elder Dale G. Renlund of the LDS church’s Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, Peter Trapa Senior Dean and Associate Provost and Pearl Sandick, interim dean of the College of Science.

Getting miners home safe at night

April 15, 2025

Getting miners home safe at night

April 18, 2025
Above: Geoffrey King

Characterized by relentless curiosity and beholden to the nature of life itself, Geoffrey King has always been a bit of a wanderer, opting for the scenic byway over the direct route.

Geoffrey King

“I’ve always had a wide range of interests,” he says. “It’s a blessing and a curse.”

At 43, King is not your typical graduate student. He’s worked in oil fields and mines, taught high school science, flipped houses, run a rental business, and even planned a year-long move to Spain. Now, he’s a student in the first-ever cohort of a master’s program at the University of Utah focused on mining safety. The interdisciplinary program is a collaboration between the U’s Department of Mining Engineering at the Rocky Mountain Center for Occupational and Environmental Health.

King’s path to mining safety was a circuitous one. After earning a geology degree from Weber State, he jumped into the industry, taking a job as a mine operations geologist with US Oil Sands. The company was trying to extract crude oil from Utah’s sandstone — an environmentally friendlier process than the Alberta tar sands operations — but like many before them, they struggled to make it profitable.

“They failed,” Geoffrey says matter-of-factly. “The price of oil wasn’t high enough, and the costs were too steep.”

Next came a six-month contract at the Kennecott Copper Mine, analyzing rock cores to predict slope stability — a crucial task in preventing catastrophic landslides. After that, a pivot: teaching high school earth sciences.

Then came Spain. Or at least, the idea of it. King and his wife had planned to move their family overseas for a year. She, ever the pragmatist, suggested he use the time to figure out what he wanted to do “when he grew up.” So, he did what everyone seems to do these days; he turned to ChatGPT.

“I asked it to give me five career ideas based on my background,” he recalls. “First one? Occupational and environmental safety and health.”

The more King looked into it, the more it made sense. He’d always been drawn to safety, having started his industrial career in the oil fields, where he’d seen firsthand the consequences of cutting corners. “I chopped off a big chunk of my finger,” he says. “And I’ve seen guys in the field with hooks for hands. Safety’s no joke.”

Spain, however, would have to wait. Advisors told him that if he wanted a career in occupational safety, the U.S. was the place to train — home to the Occupational Safety and Health Administration and the National Institute for Occupational Safety and Health and the highest industry standards. So, he made a call to the U.

“I got lucky,” he admits. “Normally, I would’ve missed the application deadline by months. But this program had just launched. I interviewed, got accepted, and they offered to pay for the whole thing. At that point, I had to really consider it.”

Now, King is deep into coursework that surprised him with its emphasis on health science. “I thought I’d be learning mostly about safety — hard hats, harnesses, protocols,” he says. “Turns out, I’m taking classes with medical residents and postdocs, studying how toxic exposures affect the body.”

His studies will take him to South America this summer, where he’ll do an internship in Colombia. “I’ve got some Spanish,” he says, “but I want a lot more.” More importantly, he wants to bridge the gap between academia and the workers who need this knowledge the most.

“There’s this massive machine of occupational safety research happening in universities,” he says, “but I see a disconnect between that and the guy working next to an asphalt paver on the freeway. That’s who I want to help.”

King’s passion for connecting people to knowledge isn’t new. He credits his own education to his mother, who, despite severe

Geoffrey King and his children.

financial struggles and mental health challenges, made sure he had exposure to science. “We were poor,” he says, “but she always brought us to the Utah Museum of Natural History [NHMU] on free Mondays. That’s what set me on this path.”

This excursion into graduate school at the U is not his first rodeo — or perhaps more appropriately, not his first hard rock lesson. In addition to his youthful visits to the NHMU in what is now the Crocker Science Center, he "went to preschool right here on 2nd South. Kindergarten just down the road. Our neighbor had alligators in their backyard,” he adds with a laugh. “I’ve known where Presidents Circle is for a long time.”

As for what’s next, King — who when he’s not “digging” into his pastimes of coaching basketball, hiking and traveling — keeps his options and one more circuitous route open. “I might go into consulting, or mining safety or construction. Maybe I’ll start my own business.” He pauses, then grins. “That drives my wife nuts.”

Whatever he chooses, Geoffrey King knows one thing: he wants to make a real impact. “In this field, you can be the person making sure workers get home safe at night. That’s powerful.”

by David Pace

2025 College of Science Awards

April 15, 2025

 

2025 College of Science AWARDS

The College of Science is committed to recognizing excellence in education, research and service.
Congratulations to all our 2025 College of Science award recipients!

 

Student Recognition

Research Scholar
Autumn Hartley
BS, Geology & Geophysics

Outstanding Undergraduate Student
Alice Parker
BS, Chemistry & Mathematics

Outstanding Graduate Student
Samantha Linn
Mathematics

Faculty Recognition

Excellence in Research
William Johnson
Professor
Geology & Geophysics

Excellence in Teaching and Mentoring
Peter Lippert
Associate Professor
Geology & Geophysics

Distinguished Educator
Ryan Stolley
Associate Director
Science Research Initiative

Distinguished Service
Sivaraman Guruswamy
Professor
Materials Science and Engineering

Postdoc Recognition

Outstanding Postdoctoral Researcher
Dustin Harper
Geology & Geophysics

Staff Recognition

Staff Excellence Award
Gordon Kafton
Systems Administrator
College of Mines and Earth Sciences

Safety Recognition

Excellence in Safety
David Carrier
Professor
School of Biological Sciences

Outstanding Undergraduate Research Award

Outstanding Undergraduate Researcher
Corrine Orton
Mathematics

Outstanding Undergraduate Research Mentor Award


Office for Undergraduate Research Mentor Award
Fred Adler
Professor
School of Biological Sciences


Office for Undergraduate Research Mentor Award
Martin Horvath
Associate Professor
School of Biological Sciences

 

For the College's 2024 Awards, click here.

 

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From Stars to Stories: Making Science Accessible

April 14, 2025

From Stars to Stories: Making Science Accessible

April 14, 2025
Above: Ethan Hood. Photo courtesy of E. Hood.

A junior in physics and astronomy, Ethan Hood's path to the University of Utah wasn't direct. After graduating from Salt Lake Community College (SLCC) with an associate's degree in general studies, he discovered his passion for the cosmos.

Ethan Hood

"It wasn't until my last semester at SLCC that I made the decision to major in physics," Hood explains. This decision led him to the U, where the robust conveyer between institutions made his transition seamless. 

"I'd say it's probably one of the most streamlined pipelines between two institutions in the country," Hood reflects on the SLCC-to-Utah pathway. "It felt very harmonious, and especially now where we have the SLCC-U campus... . It’s really blossomed as a true partnership." 

The mutually beneficial arrangement has allowed Hood to transition from community college to a major research university without missing a beat, demonstrating how strategic investment in higher education creates continuous pathways for student success. 

Goff Institute Trailblazer 

This semester, Hood is participating in the U’s Goff Institute's Trailblazers program, where he's applying his scientific training to real-world challenges. Working with a diverse team, Hood is helping the Leonardo Museum in Salt Lake City to better engage with the public. 

"The problem that we've been given is to help the museum tell their story more effectively," Hood says. His team is focusing on both visitor acquisition and retention—skills that translate directly to economic impact for cultural institutions. 

As the only science major in a program, primarily made up of business majors, Hood brings a unique approach to his consulting work. "It's similar to a problem-solving process in a scientific or physics sense, somewhat related to the scientific method," he notes, demonstrating how education in STEM creates versatile problem-solvers across sectors. 

Science Research Initiative 

Simultaneously, Hood participates in the Science Research Initiative (SRI) with Dr. Carsten Rott, chair of the U's Physics & Astronomy Department. SRI, which typically targets freshmen, also welcomes transfer students, recognizing the potential of students like Hood despite non-traditional paths. 

“We study neutrino particles using data from the IceCube Observatory down in Antarctica. Neutrinos are my favorite little subatomic friends. Very much a 'go with the flow’ feel as they’re so weakly interacting.” 

This opportunity exemplifies how university research initiatives can be structured to include students from diverse backgrounds, including community college transfers. It also showcases how public funding for research programs directly benefits students by creating hands-on learning experiences that classroom instruction alone cannot provide. 

‘Scicomm’ as Presidential Intern 

Additionally, throughout the current academic year, Hood has served as a Presidential Intern with the U's University Marketing and Communications team, where he's found his niche in what’s called “scicomm,” short for science communication, as a science writer. This prestigious appointment has allowed him to meet with leading researchers, discuss cutting-edge discoveries and craft stories that translate complex concepts for public understanding. 

Hood describes his approach to science writing using an archaeological metaphor: "Figuring out who to interview and what to talk to them about is doing your site research. That gets you there, and then you start digging — that's the interview. You probably uncover some fragments of artifacts, and then you need to figure out how to piece them back together — drafting and editing the article. Once that's all touched up and polished, then presented in the museum, that's when it's published." 

This internship represents the university's investment in developing not just technical experts, but skilled communicators who can bridge the gap between specialized knowledge and the lay reader— a critical need in today's information ecosystem. 

Public impact 

Looking ahead, Hood is developing a service project through the U's Bennion Center focused on STEM outreach and science literacy. "That's shaping up to … doing a lot of tutoring whether for children or adults and helping them develop math skills and build an interest in science." 

Formalizing his service work ambitions is likely in the offing. "Maybe there's the potential out there for me to develop an outreach program or maybe a curriculum that could be used, not necessarily [for] research specifically, but science literacy." 

With a strategically formulated and accessible curriculum, this program would directly address critical needs in science education, elevating public understanding and acceptance of STEM. It’s part of the suite of essential services, or outreach, to the broader community that is sometime unfulfilled, changing the preposition in the University of Utah to the University for Utah. 

ROI of a physics education 

While Hood dreams of becoming a professional astronomer, his physics education has prepared him for numerous career paths. "In case things don’t pan out, I have a variety of professional employment opportunities, whether it's in engineering or maybe in something far off, like finance or banking," he says. 

This pliability is recognized among his peers, such as his classmate Sylver, who refers to physics as “the Swiss Army knife of degrees.” "That was one of the big appeals for me to get involved in physics — just that versatility and that knowledge that at the end of the day, when I graduate, I will have definite worth that I can provide." 

The joke about physicists becoming bankers isn't just humor — it reflects the real economic value of STEM education. "There's a popular story that I love to share about a physicist who went into banking with one of those big companies," Hood says. "He's doing high-level financial analysis as a physics graduate." 

This adaptability represents a significant return on investment for both students and the state, as graduates like Hood develop transferable skills that contribute to economic growth across multiple sectors. 

Higher Ed's purpose and promise 

Whether Hood's future lies in science communication, research, education, or even finance, his multifaceted university experience exemplifies how public investment in higher education yields dividends far beyond individual career preparation. Through his involvement with the Goff Institute, SRI, presidential internship, and the Bennion Center, Hood demonstrates how universities serve as engines of opportunity, innovation and community engagement. 

"One of my values is STEM outreach and being able to inspire people to take an interest and passion in science, and ideally even go on and become scientists themselves," Hood says at a high level, but always determined to face outwards. "Hopefully there's some small changes or influences that we can make in our positions ... that we can make a positive impact, not just for ourselves, but for the future generations as well." 

In Ethan Hood's journey from community college to Utah’s flagship research university, we see the full promise of higher education realized — creating not just graduates, but engaged citizens equipped to address complex challenges and inspire others along the way. 

 

By David Pace

Read more about Ethan Hood in his profile Humans of the U.

 

ACCESS Scholar: Nia Brooks

April 14, 2025

Passion vs Obligation

April 14, 2025
Above: Nia Brooks

When pursuing a degree, the large list of requirements to earn that designation can sometimes feel like an obligation. Some pursue research experience just to check a box, while many others take certain classes solely to fill an elective.

Photo by Kayla McKay. Yale SURF/AMGEN Scholars Closing Symposium (2023)
Project: Detection of DNA Strand Breaks in Ichthyosis with Confetti, Choate Lab, Dermatology/Pathology, Yale University School of Medicine 

But many programs have recognized the value of building a passion in a subject first to then fuel an obligation. ACCESS Scholars is one of them, providing students like Nia Brooks an initial spark to fuel a successful journey into their future careers.

Peaks and precipices

Brooks traveled all the way from northern Virginia to pursue studies in biology and pre-medicine. It was her first experience in a college setting several thousand miles away from home, and coming off the online classes of the Covid pandemic. Suffice to say, the culture shock was immense, but thanks to a welcoming community she was able to quickly adapt and thrive. She joined the Honors College, took on a role as a TA, and through the ACCESS program dove straight into research.

“I didn’t know I’d want this when I first started,” Brooks explains. “I had always looked at research as something too hard, too complicated. I’d be stuck doing a science project for months and get burnt out! But since I started so early I had time to realize that it was way more dynamic and fun! I loved it!” 

With Principal Investigator Tracey Lamb and graduate student Marshall Roedel, Brooks has been working to study cerebral malaria, a subset or complication of malaria that can easily lead to childhood fatalities. Instead of the typical  “months-long science project” her research rapidly evolved from studying the prominent cellular interactions in response to gene editing, to investigating  cellular signaling pathways and then working with mice models to understand the mechanisms of this condition. 

Any initial hesitancy in Brooks was given the perfect environment to grow into healthy motivation, the intimidating precipice of earning an MD/PhD appearing more scalable to her with each passing day. And it’s not because that career peak is any less difficult to climb. If anything, the deeper exposure showcases how steep it really is. But by showing students like Nia Brooks the tools they’ll need and giving them space to learn if they enjoy using them, programs like ACCESS create a spark that can help supersede any obligation. 

Because at the end of the day, an obligation is something we stop pursuing once it is met. A passion is something we pursue for the rest of our lives.

By Michael Jacobsen

The West’s latest air quality threats

April 14, 2025

the West’s latest air quality threats

April 14, 2025
Above:  Dust cloud blowing into Salt Lake City. Credit: Liberty Blake

Utah has made laudable strides combating PM2.5 and ozone, the two leading air quality challenges for the Wasatch Front that have long threatened residents’ health.  But that progress is being overshadowed by two growing menaces, dust and wildfire smoke, according to presentations made by University of Utah atmospheric scientists last month at the College of Law’s 30th annual Wallace Stegner Center Symposium.

Kevin Perry

Both are associated with climate change, which is making the West drier and warmer. Neither can be controlled through traditional emission-reduction programs that have helped reduce smog all over the West, especially in Los Angeles.

The symposium’s keynote speaker Nsedu Obot Witherspoon, executive director of the Children’s Environmental Health Network, explored the need for greater equity in how we protect children from air pollution. The other featured speaker, UCLA law professor Ann Carlson, discussed the progress Los Angeles has made in recent decades to rein in emissions responsible for its once-notorious air pollution and what lessons it offers for other cities struggling with bad air.

Reducing vehicle and industrial emissions alleviates particulate and ozone pollution, but such measures make little difference for smoke and dust.

A new Dust Bowl?

Salt Lake City is affected by countless dust sources—gravel quarries, the long-dried Sevier Lake, roads and lands disturbed by cattle grazing and off-roading. But the most troubling could be the shrinking Great Salt Lake, yet the state of Utah has yet to deploy the monitoring equipment to know for sure, said Kevin Perry, a professor in the Department of Atmospheric Sciences. His tireless sampling forays by bike have earned him the moniker of Dr. Dust.

Derek Mallia

According to Perry’s research, there are four major “hotspots” on the 750 square miles of exposed playa where winds can lift dust into the air and potentially push it into populated areas and nearby mountains, Perry said on a panel devoted to the dust issue. These spots occur where the lakebed crusts have been disturbed, exposing the underlying sediments to the influence of the wind.

Hotspots closest to residential areas are in Farmington Bay, as well as in Bear River Bay, where most of the dust sources are located at elevations above 4,202 feet, nearly 10 feet above where the lake level stands, Perry said. The Farmington Bay spots tend to be at lower elevations.

“You can cover up a significant quantity of these dust hotspots at a lake elevation of 4,200 feet and get 70% coverage at 4,202,” he said. The lake’s ever-fluctuating level is currently at 4,193, a good 5 feet below what officials say is needed to restore Great Salt Lake’s ecological health.

“All of these dust hotspots that I’ve measured are currently exposed. They’re too wet to blow right now, but that’ll change as we move into the drier season,” Perry said. “Even if you bring that lake up to 4,198 feet, that will only cover up about 40% of the dust hotspots.”

Wind events, especially in spring, drive a big share of the Wasatch Front’s dust problem, pushing particulate pollution from the lake and other sources into the cities of Salt Lake, Davis and Weber counties and into the mountains where it settles onto the snowpack. Research shows this dust contains elevated levels of cadmium, arsenic, lead and other hazardous metals, depending on its source.

“Before a cold front hits our valley, we have really strong winds from the south that scream 25 mph or more for up to 18 hours. As that front passes, the winds change and move from the west to the northwest and stay strong for a few hours. So if you look at the data from the airport at Salt Lake International Airport, when we have these strong wind events that create these big dust storms, 75% of the time the dust is moving north to communities of Layton and Syracuse and Ogden.”

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Perry and his colleagues, including Derek Mallia, are eager to quantify the impact of lake playa dust on Wasatch Front cities, but there is currently not sufficient data being collected along the lake’s populated eastern shore, he said.

Read the full article by Brian Maffly in @ The U. 

Danger is her business

April 7, 2025

Danger is her BUsiness

April 7, 2025
Above: Hazardous Waste Manager Emily O'Hagan with her team trying out a new truck.

If variety is the spice of life than Hazardous Waste Manager Emily O’Hagan leads a pretty exciting life.

Emily O'Hagan

Busy with processing waste pickups from University of Utah labs for disposal, shipping dangerous goods worldwide and inspecting lab spaces for proper chemical handling and storage, O’Hagan has seen it all. You will find the gloved and masked O’Hagan, who is employed by the Environmental Health and Safety (EHS) department at the U, regularly suited up in fire-resistant long-sleeved khaki shirt and navy blue pants moving a wide variety of hazardous materials out of labs and other university facilities to a holding and sorting station before dispatching them to an off-campus facility for incineration. For O’Hagan dealing with dangerous materials is her business.

Mysterious campus corner

A typical day involves arriving at her office, checking email queries about how to dispose of materials as well as how to navigate the Safety Administrative Management System, software for waste submissions. Armed with an overview of the day’s requests, she checks in with the technicians who will do the pickups, what they should pay attention to and what they will be packing into the truck to transfer to the mysterious, hidden Building 590, “our own little corner of campus” near Red Butte Garden.

At the secured and armed 590, many kinds of hazardous wastes, including radioactive materials are stored.

Entering a clean room for an inspection in full PPE

The process of managing hazardous waste is more complicated than you might first imagine. “I can’t follow any regulations until I know what’s in the container,” she says, whether flammable solvents like ethanol, methanol or dichloromethane. “Bleach can’t be mixed with ammonia,” she reminds us of just one example of how volatile unintended chemical reactions can be. This process of “bulking” or consolidating similar materials into 55-gallon metal drums is a big part of her work before the U team contacts Clean Harbors or other third parties to ship out the waste to be incinerated or otherwise safely discarded.

“Once the techs are gone,” she says, "I go through the retaining section, checking dates on the materials that have been dropped off: which is hazardous and which are not, all within four days of their arrival.” In fact, hazardous waste management is highly regulated by local and federal agencies (Environmental Protection Agency — EPA , Occupational and Safety and Health Administration — OSHA, to name just two), and the paperwork and reporting is, naturally, voluminous. In her steel-toed boots, O’Hagan is adept at all of it, largely because of her background in chemistry.

Making research safe

A native of Sandy, O’Hagan’s first choice for a job growing up was to be an astronaut. Her second choice was something related to chemistry. “I always had an affinity for math and science,” she says, and her parents encouraged her to pursue STEM. “So it wasn’t exactly out of the blue — hey guys, guess what I’m going to do: hazardous waste!”

But following graduation with a BS in chemistry in 2022 and an internship working with other chemists to identify, segregate, and pack hazardous waste at Clean Harbors in Tooele, she saw her future, and that future was making science research at the U less dangerous for students and faculty as well as the public.

Emily O'Hagan and College of Science Safety Director working on cleaning out an old glove box. Credit: Jim Muller.

Besides flammable liquids that are bulked, O’Hagan deals with other categories of hazardous waste, including cylinders of flammable and non-flammable gases and flammable solids like metal dust or naphthalene (mothballs). Other discarded materials can become dangerous when wet or spontaneously combustible. Finally, there is a miscellaneous category like used gloves and weigh boats. Most of these items get incinerated. If non-regulated they go to a landfill. Other items like acidic solutions can be neutralized then solidified and landfilled in a secure place.

Since O’Hagan and her team at EHS are into transporting waste, she has to be up to date not only with the EPA and OSHA but with the Department of Transportation and the International Air Transport Associate which regulates shipping and the workers involved with shipping from point-to-point via ground or air. Though too young, perhaps, to have hefted them at home when a youth, O’Hagan refers to the highly detailed manuals she keeps at her desk as “phonebook-sized.”

Label, label, label

Keeping us all safe at the U and beyond, O’Hagan is at-the-ready when asked how we can all help with the safe disposal and transportation of hazardous wastes: “The biggest ‘PSA’ I have is to graduate students to tell us what’s in those containers, in those vials and flasks. Some graduate students [and retiring faculty when they exit their labs] will leave a note for us to ‘check notebook’ and we don’t have that notebook.”

That uncertainty is not the kind of variety, or “spice” that makes Emily O’Hagan’s job gratifying. So, the message is clear: safety first and always whether you’re required at work to wear those steel-toed boots and full-face respirators or not.

by David Pace

This is the second in a series of periodic spotlights on staff who work in the Department of Environmental Health and Safety at the University of Utah. You can read more about safety and wellness, under the direction of David Thomas in the College of Science here. Read the first story in the series here. 

Dust in the Wind: How cities alter natural airborne particles

April 5, 2025

Dust in the Wind: How cities alter natural airborne particles

April 1, 2025
Above: Dust plume blowing into Salt Lake City on the morning of Jan. 20, 2025. Strong north winds carried dust off exposed playa in Great Salt Lake’s Farmington Bay into Utah’s most populated urban area. Photo credit: Jim Steenburgh.

Salt Lake's locally sourced dust pollution carries far more hazardous elements than natural dust blown in from Great Basin.

Map of the study area in the southwestern United States. Dust collectors are marked by stars corresponding to their position. The background image is an atmospheric footprint map derived from HYSPLIT-STILT backward trajectory simulations denoting the frequency with which air masses crossed different landscape positions en route to the Salt Lake City/Provo urban area during the two-year duration of this study. Warmer colors (higher values) correspond to areas more likely to have served as a regional source for dust reaching the urban collectors.

Airborne dust pollution has been a concern for Utahns for several years, especially with the exposed lakebed of Great Salt Lake potentially becoming more hazardous as the lake dries. Natural dust blows from the Great Basin and settles along the western edge of the Wasatch Front, Utah’s major population center, and the surrounding mountains. While airborne, the dust mixes with local human-made materials, potentially contaminating the nearby watershed and resulting in other negative consequences, according to new research from the University of Utah that investigates the influence of urban environments on transient dust.

A study team led by U atmospheric scientist Kevin Perry and Jeff Munroe, a geology professor at Middlebury College, considered Earth’s “Critical Zone,” a near-surface layer where organisms interact with rock, air, soils and water. Dust processes such as deposition, erosion and transport influence the Critical Zone.

Dust particles are typically diverse in their composition, as they are influenced by natural environments. However, agriculture, grazing, off-roading, construction, mining and other human activities alter the dust composition, with important implications for places like Utah’s populated Salt Lake Valley.

“The problem is that there are lots of dust sources in the urban area, and when it’s windy and it’s picking up dust from Great Salt Lake and other places upstream, it gets mixed in with this local dust that has a lot more junk in it,” Perry said. “So if we think about the contaminants of concern in Great Salt Lake dust, and then you add in additional contaminants from the local dust, it just makes it that much more potent, and not in a good way.”

Home to 2.5 million people, or three-fourths of Utah’s population, the Wasatch Front is particularly susceptible to dust pollution, so it provides an ideal laboratory for investigating interactions between natural and urban dust, according to the study, which was funded by the National Science Foundation.

“Our dust comes from various sources. We have natural sources like the West Desert, the Bonneville Salt Flats, Sevier Lake, but then we also have a lot of dust from Great Salt Lake and anthropogenic dust sources, quarries at Point of the Mountain, the Staker quarry in North Salt Lake,” said co-author Derek Mallia, a research assistant professor of atmospheric sciences. “This can be locally sourced, but you can also get dust impacts from sources on the other side of the Great Basin. An artifact of being on the eastern side of the Great Basin is we’re just downwind of a ton of dust sources.”

Read the full article by Ethan Hood in @The U.